Tainted bloodline
by HamanoAsuka
Summary: How far would you go to protect the ones you love? How much would you sacrifice for their safety? How much strength would it take to lie to the one person who trusts you more than anyone else in the world?
1. The Wedding

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Dragon age or any of it's characters. I have only borrowed them. The one thing I do own is my storyline.

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when you love someone - you'll sacrifice

you'd give it everything you got and you won't think twice

you'd risk it all - no matter what may come

when you love someone

you'll shoot the moon - put out the sun

when you love someone

_When you love someone – Bryan Adams_

"In the eyes of the Maker, we have joined this man and this woman. May he watch over them and guide them in their path."

A loud, cheering roar was her from the audience and Celia looked at her husband. Alistair was uneasy, she could tell from the look in his eyes. He didn't like formal events much and every fiber in his body screamed that he would rather be somewhere else. But he tried his hardest and with a faint smile, he leaned down and kissed her. As he pulled away he whispered:

"I can't wait until we're out of here."

Then he blushed and Celia felt her cheeks warm up. She too could not wait, but she wasn't sure it was for the same reason as Alistair. Unlike him, she had grown up amongst the nobilities. She had been raised as a noble, even though her father probably had been more lenient to her than any other noble father. She had been able to get away with almost anything. And not many of the other female nobles she had met had been trained in combat. Truly she wondered if her father hadn't hoped for another son, yet he never really showed it. She looked over at the crowd, but the two faces she longed to see more than any other would never appear in that crowd. It made her sad.

"Makers blessing on us all," finished the revered mother and Celia was pulled back to the present.

Celia smiled and when Alistair offered his arm, she took it.

"Well then, husband. Let's see this through," she whispered playfully.

Alistair smiled and they faced the congregation. Almost as a given Alistair's face lost almost all colour. Celia squeezed his arm slightly. He seemed to muster a small flicker of strength, cleared his throat silently and sighed.

"Well then, friends" he said with a hint of quivering in his voice, "let us celebrate!"

Another cheer from the crowed was heard and it continued as they walked down the aisle together.

"Never did I think you could look more beautiful then you did that day, covered in blood, with the Archdemon slain beside you," Alistair whispered. "Yet today when you walked in I was stunned."

"You though I was beautiful when I was covered in blood," Celia asked with a smirk.

Alistair laughed.

"You are always beautiful." He groaned and a faint blush spread cross his cheeks. "Maker, I sound like a fool. I'm going to be quiet now."

"You be no such thing, and don't insult my husband, calling him a fool."

They both smiled.

"You know I like it when you call me beautiful."

"You mean you like it when I stumble on my words and blush."

Celia laughed.

"That too. But I really like it when you compliment me. More than if anyone else would. Is that so bad?"

His face turned even redder.

"No, love. I just wish to move past this all. And I bet the people of the city would gossip for a long time about how their king was blushing at his wedding, and that was before he even made it out of the chantry. In fact I think the fact I helped stop a blight might be overshadowed by that very juice piece of gossip."

"Oh, ever so dramatic. But I get the hint, love. I'll stop." She smirked. "For now."

"You evil, evil woman," he laughed.

The celebrations that followed were no less than grand than the wedding had been, but such was probably the case when the King married, even if he had only been on the throne for a very short time. In the castle alone it lasted long into the night and as soon as they saw an opportunity, the newly-wed couple snuck off to their chambers. Finally alone together, Alistair let himself to relax. Celia moved close to him and kissed him. When Alistair answered her kiss, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing herself closer to him. She felt his trembling hands over her body and sighed in pleasure. Then suddenly he froze and she leaned out of the kiss and looked at him.

"Something the matter dear?"

He sighed.

"Here we are again and I am still a bumbling fool, who's all hands. Why can't I be better? I want to be better for you. As much as I had hoped for our first time to be special, it seemed more like something we rushed into, fearing that there would be no time later. And when I couldn't make it special the first time, I had wanted this day to be perfect. And here I am…"

Celia silenced him with a finger over his lips.

"I love you Alistair. Every day with you is special and perfect. I don't feel we rushed into anything and for all we knew back then; one of us could've died. I wouldn't care less about if you were the worst lover on earth, which I might add you are not. In my life there have only been you and will only ever be you."

He bowed his head.

"But you haven't been the only one for me. I mean you're the only one in my heart and there will…"

Again she placed her finger on his lips.

"I know Alistair and I am sorry."

Alistair backed away with shock in his eyes.

"What do you mean, "you're sorry"? I was the one who slept with… with… and that even after I told you how much I loved you and never would be with another woman."

"But you did it because I asked you too. Because I was scared and selfish. I could not let you die and leave me alone. I didn't want to lose you. And I was afraid that if I died…"

"But I could've said no. I could've told Morrigan to…"

"Alistair," Celia said softly and put her hand on his cheek. "Did you sleep with her cause you wanted to?"

"What? NO! What ever would make you think that?"

"Then why did you?"

"What?"

He walked away, wandered around the room, trying to put words to the anger and the pain he felt at the moment. Then he stopped and looked at Celia.

"First you say you're sorry that you made me do it and then you ask me why I did it. I did it because you told me to."

"No. I mean… why did you do as I said? Why did you listen to me? If you didn't want to sleep with her, why did you?"

"Are you saying that's what I should've done? Walked away from it all. One of us would most certainly be dead now if I had. I…" His voice broke off. "I wasn't able to let you go. Let you die. I was selfish too."

Looking at her husband's tormented face, Celia raised her hand as to comfort him, realizing he was too far away from her. She quickly stepped toward him, removing the distance between them. She placed her hand on his cheek.

"Then all is as it should be. I do not blame you and I will not dwell in the past. We did what we had to do and what we thought was right. Now we stand here and we have new decisions to make."

Alistair placed his hand over hers on his cheek. Then he stepped closer to her, removing what space was left between them.

"Thank the Maker for you, Celia. I'm sure anyone else would've left me by now. Yet here you are."

"And I'm not going anywhere."

"Good," he whispered and then he kissed her.

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End chapter 1


	2. The Fade

**Disclaimer: **All I own is my story, not the characters or any other part of Dragon Age.

**Note: **Seriously. posting or even writing new stories/chapters at 4am in the morning, combined with an evil spell-check... not a good idea... Thankfully people are nice enough to review about things like that. ^^

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It's not what it seems  
Not what you think  
No I must be dreaming  
It's only in my mind  
Not real life  
No I must be dreaming

_Untitled (I must be dreaming) - Evanescence_

She had her sword in her hand. She was ready. The darkspawn were closing in on them. She looked around. This was Ostagar. Where she had fought the darkspawn two times before.

"Here they come," said a voice next to her.

She turned to look at Zevran. No that couldn't be. Zevran had never been at Ostagar. Then the darkspawn was upon them. She swung her sword at them, but hit only air.

She was home. The sound of the wind in the oak trees told her that. She looked down at her hands. They were so small. Then she was running, chasing Kenari. Suddenly out of nowhere a stone grew up from the ground and she tripped. She was covered in mud. Fergus was laughing behind her. She cried out in anger and turned to hit him.

"Young Lady Cousland."

She turned around again. She was in her room. By the door stood an elven servant.

"Your father wishes to speak with you."

She followed the servant to the doors of the main hall, where the servant excused herself. She opened the doors, to find her father talking to Arl Howe. She was angry at Howe, though she could not remember why. He was a family friend.

"There you are pup."

Another man entered the room. Celia felt as though she knew the man, yet she couldn't understand why. He opened his mouth to speak.

"You do not belong here, young Lady Cousland."

What? This was her home. Who was he to tell her she didn't belong there. She wanted to tell him off, but he was gone. She was back at Ostagar. She was standing on the battlefield. The battle was over. There was bodies everywhere. Darkspawn. Mabari hounds. Mages. Soldier. She was crying. She was five years old. Her brother was gone. Tears ran down her face and she screamed loudly.

"Honestly, Celia, you silly girl. You have to look for me."

Her brother came out of his hiding place.

"It's no use playing this game if you're going to start crying every time I hide and you can't find me."

She sobbed and her brother put his arms around her. She closed her eyes and felt strong arms around her waist. Hands searching their way over her body and lips pressed against her neck. She giggled and turned to kiss the lips that had caressed her neck. Ostagar again. She shook her head and felt as though a great fog was lifting. She looked around and noticed the peace that seemed to rest over the ruins. This was the Fade. She was sure of that now.

"I see you finally awaken."

She turned around.

"Duncan," she gasped. "But you… you're dead."

"That I am, but this isn't the real world after all. You're the one who's out of place."

"This is the Fade," she answered slowly. "I have, been here before. Trapped. Seems so long ago now."

"Yes. I know. Come walk with me," he said calmly and gestured toward the ruins of Ostagar.

It was so strange that this place seemed so peaceful, almost beautiful.

"I have been dead for some time now, yes. But not absent. I have been lingering here, waiting to see the end of this Blight, so that I would be able to rest in peace."

He paused and looked at her.

"You both turned out to be quite formidable Grey Wardens. I wish I could've foreseen the rest too."

"Seen what?"

Duncan chuckled.

"I knew from the start that the two of you would make great Grey Wardens. Alistair may not be the cleverest person there is, but he is honest and just. And you, you were so headstrong. You were so headstrong that I had to invoke the right of conscription on you to make you come with me. You still are Headstrong. No wonder he fell in love with you. Maybe I should have guessed it would happen. Your spirit was surely strong enough to attract someone as innocent as him."

Duncan looked at her and smiled.

"Don't think I am blaming you or anything. Your love is probably what kept him going. And in the end it is probably that love that saved Ferelden. All though I may not agree with some of the methods you used along the way, you did what you had to do to stop the blight and that is what the Grey Wardens do."

He sighed.

"But that was not the reason I awoke you. As you know, Grey Wardens abandon their titles when they join. But in Alistair's case it was different. It became different. If the King hadn't been killed at Ostagar, then Alistair would still probably only be a Grey Warden."

"But Loghain betrayed everyone..."

"Yes. And so the fate was changed for him. But that you would take your place at his side is most, unfortunate."

"You think I should have let him marry someone else."

"That would've been easier, maybe."

"Not for us."

"I know that. But for the kingdom. However what's done is done."

"Is this what you wanted to tell me?"

"No, and you know that. As King," he paused and looked at her. "And queen, you will have to produce an heir. Alistair did tell you about the difficulties."

"Yes."

"Well it isn't as much as the question if you can, but if you should. With the taint in the blood, there is no telling what the child might become."

"Then what..."

"Hear me out, Lady Cousland, before you judge."

"Al right," Celia said and took a deep breath.

"From this point there are three ways to go. You could try to have the baby yourself, in spite of what it may become. There might be dangers there that no one will be able to see. And for certain, people will be afraid of the child, if they knew about the taint and if they suspected what the child might become. Or you can let Alistair have another woman bare his child, diluting the taint, in hope that the child will be as any other child."

"Alistair would never agree to that."

"Lady Cousland, please," Duncan sighed. "But I suspect you are right. He loves you too much to do that again. But I do not want to see the witch's son on the throne either."

"She said she wouldn't do that."

"She won't. Which leads us to option three. You could take another man, and then say the child is Alistairs."

Celia stopped walking.

"Absolutely not. I will not lie to Alistair. I have not lied to him yet, and I don't plan to start. Not over this. And I will not do it, tell him and hurt him either."

"I figured you would say something like that. I guess the only option is the first then. But know that you will have to lie either way. To protect the child and Ferelden. And even though it makes this problem more complicated, I am glad that you two are so dedicated and honest with each other. You will be able to lean on each other and I am sure that together you will be able to rule Ferelden quite well. Which is why you will need an heir, or Ferelden will fall into civil war, destroying whatever you and Alistair may build, once you are gone."

He sighed and looked at Celia with a look of concern. For a second he reminded her so much of her father.

"And we can't have that. Not with Ferelden being in this weakened state after this Blight."

"But there is still a possibility that we could produce an heir. It might be very difficult, but there still is a chance."

"Yes, but at what cost?"

"Maybe none. No one knows."

"Or it might be even worse than a civil war or even a Blight." He smiled. "But it is obvious that you have already chosen your path, and it was the path I thought you would choose. I just hoped that I would be able to change your mind, but as I've already said you are headstrong, and you won't really let anyone tell you what to do. But do not despair, I will help you on this path."

"Help me?"

"For the safety of the child and of Ferelden, certain precautions must be taken, before and after the child is born. The child will be of great interest to a lot of people. People will try to kill it for many reasons, being the heir only one of them. Some might feel fear of what the child could be and in fear try to kill the child. Maybe even before the child is born. Others may try to use the child for the powers it might posses."

"Then we just have to protect the child. We have armies..."

"Yes you will have to protect it, but it is easier to put your faith in one person than in thousands."

"What do you mean?"

"You must chose someone from the Grey Warden order that you trust, and when the child is born you will send them both away, out of Ferelden."

"What? No! I can't send my child away."

"You have to. By doing so the child will be safe from the people who want to kill or use it, and Ferelden will be safe from whatever powers the child might posses."

"So I am just to inflict some other country with its powers, assuming it has them?"

"That's why you send it away with someone you trust, so that should the child ever show any potential to be dangerous, this person will kill it."

"NO!"

"You have to!"

There was a tone of anger in Duncan's voice. Celia didn't like it. The more she heard of this plan, the more she wanted to back away and chose another way. But she knew that there was no way that Alistair would ever take another woman to his bed, as well as she would never hurt Alistair by taking another man.

"But you're saying I won't see my own child grow up. I will lose so much. Why can't I go? Why do I have to send someone else?"

"And what about Alistair? Will he be able to rule without you? Will you be able to leave him? Will you be able to lie to him about why you're leaving?"

"I will have to lie to him anyway!"

"Yes, this is a difficult path you have chosen."

Silence swept over them. Celia saw before he images of what might yet to come. Alistair sitting alone on the throne, mourning his wife and child. Another image where she was with him, but their child was still gone. She saw herself on the run with a bundle in her arms. None of these pictures where appeasing.

"Why a Grey Warden? They are soldiers, not nursemaids."

"Other than someone you trust, you will need someone who can sense the taint. And if they are on the run, a soldier is better than a nursemaid. And I soldier might be more capable of killing the child, should it come to that."

There was those words again. Killing the child. She hated those words. It was as if saying them it would make it true.

"But if I simply send it away people will know. They will follow."

"Yes," he said calmly. "No one must know."

"Not even Alistair," Celia whispered. "But that means..." She gasped. "They will have to think the baby is dead!"

"That would probably be the only way to ensure that no one knows, and no one follows."

"But how?"

"I'm afraid I cannot help you there, but I will aid whoever you chose to carry this burden with you. I will tell him when it is safe to return or if he will have to k..."

"Don't say it, please. It was hard enough to hear the first time."

"Very well."

"You're asking me to endure a lot. Sending my child away, possibly even ki..." She couldn't even say it. "I will have to lie to everyone. I will have to carry this burden on my own."

"You have already endured a lot, Lady Cousland. And you are strong. Strong enough to hear the truth and strong enough to endure it when the time comes. And you will not be alone, but I fear it will not help you much."

Silence fell over them and they stood watching the sun rise. Celia's head was filled with thoughts of what might yet come to be. Things she didn't want to think of, things she couldn't stop thinking about.

"Morning is upon us, Lady Cousland. It is time for you to return to Ferelden and the ones you love."

"Goodbye, Duncan."

"Goodbye, Queen Celia."

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, she was back in the royal bedchamber's. Next to her was Alistair, still sleeping, with his arm around her waist. Carefully she wriggled out of his grasp and got to her feet. She felt nauseous and fell back on the bed. After making sure Alistair hadn't woken up, she stood up again, put on a robe and walked over the vanity. It was warm in the room and at first she was surprised to see the fire burn in the fireplace. But then she reminded herself that they weren't on the road any more. Here there were servants who would tend to their every need. After all those nights in the wilds, she had forgotten how it felt to have other people look after her. She had gotten used to taking care of herself. But it was something that she would get accustomed to, just as she had gotten accustomed to taking care of herself.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She was pale, her hair rugged and there were dark circles under her eyes. She picked up a brush and began to straighten out her hair. As she kept watching herself in the mirror it dawned upon her. There had never been any choice to make. She was with child already. How she knew that, she was uncertain. But she knew it was true. She put her hand on her stomach, as tears ran down her cheeks.

"It is too soon. I am not ready."

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End chapter 2


	3. Child of Interest

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Dragon Age, no matter how much I wished I did. All I own is my story.

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And through it all she offers me protection

A lot of love and affection

Whether I'm right or wrong

And down the waterfall

Wherever it may take me

I know that life won't break me

When I come to call she won't forsake me

I'm loving angels instead

_Angels – Robbie Williams_

"No! I will not let you near my wife, it is out of the question."

Alistair paced angrily over the floor.

"But your Majesty. The child... it is dangerous. It's an abomination."

The mage desperately tried to get away as Alistair charged right up to him, grabbed him by the robes and pushed him against the wall.

"You will not call MY CHILD an abomination! And if you EVER call my child an abomination again, I will personally wipe out the entire circle."

"Your Majesty," said the templar that had accompanied the mage. "We are only her to look out for Fereldens safety. That child is..."

"My heir," Alistair finished the sentence.

Without much effort he threw the mage away, who gasped for air.

"And I need an heir, so you can't just come in here and kill my child. Or for that matter hurt my wife in any way."

"Your Majesty, you could still have another child with..."

"NO!" Alistair shouted and slammed his hand against the desk. "Get it into that thick head of yours; I am NOT having a child with anyone but my wife! I am NOT letting you anywhere near my wife! And that is my final word! Now, please, leave!"

"Very well, your Majesty. We will leave, for now."

"For good! Don't bother coming back, my answer will not change."

The mage and the templar left. Alistair sank down into his chair and buried his face into his hands. This was the third time the circle had visited him, but he knew that it was really the templars that wanted to take such drastic measures. And even though Alistair knew that the templar filled a propose with their iron grip on the circle, he was very tempted to break up that arrangement.

"Your Majesty?"

"What?" he barked and looked up.

He met the eyes of a young servant, who was now shaking in fear. He regretted his outburst and smiled apologetically to the young man.

"I'm sorry. What was it you wanted?"

"Y-your wife asked for you, y-your Majesty," stuttered the servant. "S-she said she'll be in the garden."

Alistair sighed with relief. For a moment he had feared it was someone else coming to pester him with some other problem. But a moment with his wife was probably something he needed right now.

"Thank you," he said to the servant with a smile. "You... may leave."

He was still not used to ordering people around, but even with the small trace of uncertainty that still linger in his voice, the servants at least listened to him. He only wished that everyone else would see him as more then the bastard son. But he knew that the one who really was ruling this country was his wife and Eamon. Many probably looked at him, thinking he was stupid, but he wasn't that stupid. Sure he had learned a few things, but it was still clear who was the stronger hand in the castle.

He got up and looked out the window. He had purposely chosen this room to be his study, because the windows faced the garden. There he would stand watching whenever he managed to steal a few moments. His wife spent a lot of time in the garden, specially the part where she had planted a vast selection of roses. He saw her walking around in the garden, and for a moment he was content just watching her. She was so beautiful, even from this distance. He stomach had grown plenty over the last months and she was swaggering forward a bit like a goose, but that was something he would never tell her. There was a certain sense of serenity watching her from afar. When she was close he never felt as calm. When she was close all he could think about was touching her, kissing her, the sensation of her skin against his and it took all his strength at times to control himself. Which was why he never could feel calm around her.

After a while of watching her, he remembered that she had summoned him and so he probably shouldn't make her wait much longer. He walked out the door to his study, but at an instant he wished he had climbed out the window instead. He almost walked right into Ealen, one of his advisor's.

"Your Majesty."

"Not now Ealen."

"But these are very important documents that have to be handled as soon as possible."

"Not now."

"But..."

"You said as soon as possible, and right now I don't have time. I don't think ten minutes is going to make a difference and if you do, you are very welcome to take that up with my wife, who I'm just about to go see, since she summoned me a few minutes ago."

"I..."

Alistair loved to see the face on people when he told them to take it up with his wife. It was a gaze of admiration for the Queen, and a little scent of fear. She, unlike Alistair, had been trained to give orders and grown up, fully knowing what it meant to be a noble. And now she was even bossier if there was anything she wanted, her pregnancy increasing every emotion she had ten times. But that was another thing he wouldn't tell her.

"Don't worry, Ealen. I'll be back soon to read those boring documents." The last few words he only whispered under his breath.

"Just make sure you..."

"I will be back," Alistair said over his shoulder as he walked away.

He was amazed how easy it had been to shake the advisor of, for once. And he was also amazed of how empty the rest of the hallways seemed, making his way to the gardens completely free from interruptions. He walked straight to the rose garden, knowing that would be where she was. She was sitting on the grass by one of the bushes, with a knife in her hand, cutting of rose by rose. Carefully she trimmed each rose and placed them in a vase next to her. Alistair stopped and for a moment just watched her, as he had done from his studies. After a while he smiled and walked over to her.

"You know, there are servants who could do that for you."

She turned and smiled at him. His heart skipped a few beats and his blood began to heat up. He took a deep, calming breath. It didn't help much.

"I like doing it. It's relaxing. And every time I hold one of them in my hand, I am reminded of that very first you gave me. Though none of them are as beautiful as that one. I wonder why these won't grow as well as that one. It's like they're missing something."

"A horde of darkspawn marching toward them?"

She frowned. One of her not so charming features.

"Don't joke about things like that."

"I'm sorry, dear."

She placed another rose in the vase.

"You wanted to talk to me."

As though she hadn't heard him, she kept choosing one rose after another, placing them into the vase as she finished trimming them. Alistair shifted his weight from one leg to the other, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"Yes. That I did," she answered after a while.

"About?"

"Nothing in particular," she smiled. "I just thought you might need a break. I saw the mage and the templar enter the castle earlier."

Alistair groaned. He had hoped to forget about that meeting.

"Same reason as before?"

"Yes," sighed Alistair. "They are still terrified, of what I'm not sure. And I don't think I made it any better, threatening to tear down the whole circle tower."

"They'll get over it," she said calmly. "They will be back in no time."

"Please, don't remind me."

She placed the final rose into the vase and put up her hand for her husband to grasp.

"Help me up, love."

He took her hand and then placed another around her waist and pulled her up into his arms. With a smile he kissed her. She smiled back at him and placed her arms around his neck. Their lips connected again. When they broke apart he sighed and looked at her.

"Every day I think that there is no way you could look more beautiful than just that moment and every day I'm proven wrong."

"Whoa," she smiled and then laughed. "Feeling a bit corny today, are we?"

Alistair blushed.

"I'm just speaking the truth." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, how are my favourite two people in the world?"

Celia placed her hand on her stomach.

"Your heir kicked me earlier today. Very lively this one. Very strong."

"Really."

Alistair smiled widely and Celia saw the pride and the joy in his eyes. There was no question about how he felt about their child. He loved their unborn heir, unconditionally.

"Yes. She is sleeping now."

"She?"

"The nursemaid thinks it's a girl." She sighed happily."I'm thinking Eleanor, if it really is a girl."

"After your mother."

"Yes." A flash of sadness showed in her eyes. "Is that okay?"

Alistair squeezed her hand gently.

"I think it's a wonderful idea. And if it's a boy?"

Celia looked at her husband, placed a hand on his cheek.

"Duncan," she whispered.

Alistair closed his eyes. He placed his hand over hers and squeezed it gently.

"Thank you," he whispered back to her.

A soft cough was heard, and Alistair turned around to find the same servant that his wife had sent him earlier. He sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry, your Majesty, but Ealen sent me to..."

He held up a hand to silence the servant.

"I know, I know. I will come and read those papers." He turned to his wife again. "Anything you need, dear."

"No love, I'm alright."

He kissed her one last time and then went back to the castle. Celia stood still watching him leave. He had grown a lot the last months. She only hoped that he would be strong enough to face what was coming. And that she was strong enough to go through with it all.

"Maelin."

The servant bowed.

"Yes, my queen?"

Celia pointed to the vase of roses.

"Would you please bring those to my husband's study?"

"Absolutely, my queen."

The servant picked up the vase and headed back into the castle, following her husband. A sigh escaped her lips. She put her hand to her stomach.

"Dear sweet Eleanor, if only your father knew. What would he say? What would he do?"

A tear trickled down her cheek. She wiped it away furiously. This was not the time. There would come a time when she would have to cry and play her part. But it wasn't yet and she couldn't betray the feelings she had to keep inside her. With a heavy sigh she started to walk back to the castle.

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End of chapter 3


	4. The Joining

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Dragon Age. All I own is this storyline.

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After some time I've finally made up my mind

She is the girl and I really want to make her mine

I'm searching everywhere to find her again

To tell her I love her

And I'm sorry 'bout the things I've done

I find her standing in front of the church

The only place in town where I didn't search

She looks so happy in her wedding dress

But she's crying while she's saying this:

Boy I missed your kisses all the time but this is

Twenty five minutes too late

Though you travelled so far boy I'm sorry you are

Twenty five minutes too late

_25 Minutes – Michael Learns to Rock_

She was nervous. The reason she was nervous was because she had been forced to wait and she hated waiting. The leaves rustled in the wind, which carried a scent of roses. Why she had decided to meet out here, she wasn't sure. But she knew now that she regretted it. The sounds and shadows that grew along the walls made her even more nervous. The wind shifted and carried with it a scent of leather and exotic spices. She heard a faint crackle behind her and spun around instantly.

"Zevran! Don't sneak up on me like that."

The elven assassin grinned widely.

"But my dear Queen, it is too much fun not to."

"It's Celia, Zev," she sighed. "We're friends, remember?"

"As you will, your Majesty," he mocked and bowed.

"Gah, you're impossible," she groaned, waving her arms at him.

"Am I? People usually find me irresistible."

He flashed her another smirk.

"Well I didn't summon you to talk about your capability to charm people. I..."

She hesitated. This was something needed to be done, but for all that was holy, it was something she absolutely didn't want to do. She searched her mind for another solution, but she knew there was none. She had gone over every other possibility and in the end it had come down to the question of trust. There was no one else that she could trust would get the job done. No one else was capable of doing what she was planning for Zevran. And yet so much was still not decided. There was a possibility that she would still have to find someone else, but she was afraid that there would be no one else as able as him. She noticed Zevran looking at her, and snapped back to the present.

"I would like you to join the Grey Wardens."

There, she had said it. She closed her eyes and wished that he would accept. She wished he wouldn't protest or even question her decision. As much as she didn't want to ask this of him, she didn't want to force it either. Though in truth, forcing him was what she was doing. There was no other way and no matter how much she hated it, she had to do it.

"Now there's an interesting offer," Zevran said with a smirk. Then his face turned cold. "but what makes you think I want to swear allegiance to a new group, now that I'm free from the crows?"

"Please, Zev. Please don't make me force the Right of Conscription on you. I don't want to do that. Please, Zev."

"Then don't."

"I have to."

"Why?" He squinted his eyes. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing," she lied.

"Lies. You're usually a better liar then that, my dear warden." He circled her. "But you woke my curiosity. Maybe if I did as you ask, you will tell me of your plan."

The air seemed to thicken as they looked at each other, waiting for the other one to talk first. Zevran looked straight into her eyes, but there was nothing that gave her away. She was a marvel, this one woman that could make her do whatever she asked of him. He sometimes regretted that he hadn't run away from her once Taliesen had been defeated. But he suspected that her hold on him had already been too strong back then. As much as he hated to admit it, this woman had a hold on his heart that was so strong he couldn't see any way out if it. He decided to play along and smirked at her.

"Well it's not likely that I will get away from here in any other way then to accept your offer. You sure have made sure to trap me, like a rat. And I fell for it. Congratulations, dear Warden."

"What are you talking about, Zev?"

"Oh don't play the innocent. We both know this was a trap and there is no way you will let me go without me accepting your offer. The guards have tripled these last days, preparing. Escape routes have been closed off and if I know you as well as I would like to believe I do, there might even be one or two assassins out there, ready to pin me down if I should even try to escape. You have planned this very masterfully and you are not going to let me escape this trap of your. Yes there is a great chance that I still might make it, running away. But what would be the point. You would hunt me down and since the Crows never could stop you, I fear that it will not be something I would be able to do. I honestly don't know what would be harder to escape. You or the crows. Without your protection I'm going to be pinned between your order and the Crows."

"Zevran, I'm so sorry."

He held up a hand to stop her pleads.

"Don't, my Grey Warden. We both know that is a lie. And I have already surrendered to your will."

"You make it sound like you have no choice."

"Well, do I?"

She bit her lip. No, in truth he didn't. She needed him and he had to become a Grey Warden. It felt like a thousand needles pierced her heart. Once again she hated herself for choosing this path. More than ever she wanted to go back and change it all. But while she felt this strong regret, she still knew that the worst was yet to come. There were still events on the horizon that she knew would make her regret this decision even more than she did now. This was simple the first steps in a tangle of lies she had been spinning since she had woke up that morning fully aware of the child she was carrying.

"See, my dear Warden. There is no choice for me."

"I'm sorry, Zev. I really am. I really wish there was another way."

"I would lie if I said that this mystery didn't intrigue me. But I can't help but feeling that I am the one who has everything to lose in this arrangement."

Celia could feel tears building up. No, it still wasn't time to cry, she had to stay strong.

"I too, have a lot to lose on this arrangement."

"Whatever is making you take these drastic measures, must be worth a lot to you, if you're willing to risqué our friendship."

"There is so much more a risk, than our friendship, I'm afraid. As important as our friendship is to me, Zevran, there are plenty of things that are equally important and there are many reasons why I must gamble it all on this path. Know that I will tell you in due time. Know that you will be the only person who will know everything, the only person I will be able to trust."

"Somehow that makes me feel happy and anxious at the same time. What are you planning, dear Warden?"

"All in due time, Zev. Please just..." Her voice broke off. This was getting harder for every minute that passed. "Maker forgive me," she whispered under her breath.

Zevran raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She took the opportunity in this newly sett silence and handed him a letter.

"Take this to the Grey Warden keep, and give this to the commander. You will be tested with other potentials."

"Tested?"

"Nothing you won't able to handle. The first test you will handle with ease."

The second test you might not, she added in her mind. As she realized the possibility that he might not survive the taint, tears starter to fall on her cheeks. She had just sentenced one of her dearest friends to death. Whether it was to be quick or slowly by the taint, was yet to see. But she was the one who had sentenced him, and yet she knew there were still worse things to come. Quickly she turned to walk back into the castle, determined not to show Zevran her tears. Just as she thought that he hadn't notice and was about to let her leave, she felt him grab her arm.

"Why the tears, my dear Warden."

"It's nothing, Zev."

He pulled her close and spun her around. Gently he placed his hand on her cheek and wiped a tear away. She closed her eyes. This was dangerous. Once she had felt his hand just like this on her cheek and it had been followed by a kiss. In her heart she had never really turned him down, even though she had chosen someone else. But all the feelings she had for him were still there. That's why she kept her distance from him. She feared that her feelings would one day betray her and that she would betray her husband.

"These tears don't look like nothing to me."

The smell of him filled her lungs and she shivered. This was bad.

"Zevran," she whispered. "Please. If anyone... sees us..."

"You mean if Alistair sees us."

He let go of her arm and took one step backward, turning his head away. She remained where he had left her, still shaking, still wishing that he had kissed her. Even though she knew that it was better this way, it hurt. She loved Alistair, but she could not deny it. She loved Zevran too.

"Very well, dear Warden. I will go to the Wardens now. I will join, as I have promised to do."

"Thank you, Zev," she whispered. "May the Maker have mercy on our souls."

Without looking at him she turned and went back into the castle. Zevran watched her leave, his body aching to chase her and kiss her. He had been so close. Her scent had almost made him forget the fact that she wasn't his to have. Tonight he wished that it wasn't so. At this moment he wished that she was his, if only for that one kiss. He disappeared into the night, again the next step in his journey chosen by someone else. But for once he felt less forced, even though the chains that pulled him was stronger than ever before.

* * *

There had been seven at the start. They had lost 2 in the deep roads and another 3 to the taint. Only one had survived and now the turn had come for Zevran. Celia watched with horror as Zevran raised the chalice to his lips and drank the poison that would kill him. Fast or slow. Tears fled from her eyes and she chanted under her breath.

"Maker forgive me. Maker have mercy."

She repeated the words over and over, as she watched Zevran hand back the chalice and then he felt to his knees, clutching his throat.

"Maker preserve us. Maker protect us."

Zevran opened his mouth as to scream, but no sound came over his lips. His eyes turned white and then his back bent over in a most unnatural way and a painful whimper came over his lips. Then he collapsed and it was over. He was gasping for air. Celia fell to her knees next to him and flung her arms around his neck.

"Oh, thank the Maker," she cried. "Oh, Zevran I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Zevran gently pushed her away, afraid of what he would do if this embrace lasted any longer. He feared that his emotions would betray him any second now. He gathered his strength and smirked as he faced her.

"My dear Warden, have you forgotten who you are. I would think it not to wise of you to express your feelings so openly."

Celia blushed and turned her eyes from his.

"I am a Grey Warden first, and you are one of my most trusted friends. Let me at least be happy you are not dead. Yet."

"Wow, that sounded... reassuring."

He stood up and helped Celia to her feet. Again they found themselves only inches from each other and Celia felt herself wanting more than she could ever have. Zevran hissed under his breath and stepped away quickly. If the others next to them suspected anything, they didn't say so. Celia cleared her throat.

"Welcome brother," she said as formally as she could to Zevran and the turned to the other survivor, an elven woman from the Alienage of Denerim. "And welcome, sister." Then she turned to the Grey Warden that had conducted the ritual. "Two more, Evan."

"And so, slowly our numbers are increasing."

They shared a smile that was filled with joy and sadness at the same time.

"Yes," she turned back to Zevran and the elven woman. "One last thing." She held out a pendant each to them. "A reminder of the others who gave their lives today and who have given their lives over the ages, a sacrifice for the greater good."

"Nice necklace," smirked Zevran. "Always wanted to ask where you've gotten yours."

"You could've asked, Zev."

"And miss out on this surprise?"

Celia sighed.

"It contains a few drops of the blood you've drank tonight and it will remind you of the sacrifice we all have made." She turned to Evan. "I trust that everything is under control here at the keep. I can take my leave again?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Here, Evan, I am only a Grey Warden, your sister through the tainted blood. And I would appreciate if you would treat me such," she said and smiled softly.

"Yes, sister," he smiled.

"Well, then I should probably return, before my husband sends his armies to find me." She placed her hand on her still growing stomach. "And I think that there has been enough excitement for the heir tonight."

"Let me accompany you back to Denerim," Zevran said behind her.

She turned and narrowed her eyes.

"You just want to torment Alistair, don't you?"

"Well I won't lie, the thought has crossed my mind."

"Dear Maker."

* * *

End of chapter 4


	5. Complications

**Disclaimer: **Dragon age isn't mine. This story is however.

* * *

Alone for a while I've been searching through the dark,

For traces of the love you left inside my lonely heart.

To weave by picking up the pieces that remain.

Melodies of Life - Love's lost refrain.

Our paths they did cross, though I cannot say just why,

We met, we laughed, we held on fast, and then we said goodbye,

And who'll hear the echoes of stories never told?

Let them ring out loud till they unfold.

In my dearest memories, I see you reaching out to me.

Though you're gone, I still believe that you can call out my name.

In your dearest memories, do you remember loving me?

Was it fate that brought us close and now leaves me behind?

If I should leave this lonely world behind.

Your voice will still remember our melody.

Now I know we'll carry on.

Melodies of Life.

Come circle round and grow deep in our hearts,

as long as we remember.

_Melodies of Life – Shiratori Emiko_

Happiness. There was no other way to describe it. She picked up her daughter and spun around. The girl squealed in joy and laughed loudly. A few steps away Celia could see her husband. He too was laughing. Both their sons sat next to him and they were playing. She called for them and they both rushed to her. Laughing as they threw themselves in her arms. She formed a circle with the children and they danced, round and round. One of the boys tagged her daughter and they all ran off toward the ponds. There they engaged in a war of splashing water on each other.

Celia walked up to her husband and kissed him. Then she took his hands and led him toward the ponds. She bent down and splashed water on her husband, who laughed. He picked her up and carried her toward the deeper ends of the ponds. She squirmed playfully and laughed. Her husband held her tight. She was so happy.

The stars were glimmering brightly and the moon was full. In this warm summer night, Zevran had been watching them until just a minute ago, but they meant little to him. They were something he could not ever have or touch. Much like the woman he was now watching. Once she had been in his reach, but he had let her go. Now she was as unattainable as the stars. And equally beautiful.

From his hiding place he could see her walking in the rose garden. She was wearing only her nightdress, a white silk dress, which reflected the glow of the moon. He watched her, entranced by the sight. She was dancing and laughing. Her voice carried over the silence of the night and shot into his heart like arrows. She was dancing alone, but acted as though there were others around her. A sudden cold breeze blew past Zevran, and when it reached her, it made her dress flicker. She bent down and splashed water around her and laughed again. Zevran turned away. The pain was so strong. He knew he could never have her, and yet he wished, more than anything, that he could.

When he turned back to look at her, she was gone. The air quickly grew colder and ice formed over the ponds. It only took seconds, and if the ice alone hadn't made him suspicious, this did. He climbed down from his hiding place and ran toward the gardens. No way would she be able to disappear that fast without him noticing. Unless there was magic involved.

When he reached the ponds he quickly scanned the area, but there was no traces of her ever being there tonight. Then he heard a light tap from the ponds. Beneath the ice he saw a hand slowly sinking into the darkness. He sank to his knees on the ice and tried to break it, but it was surprisingly thick, considering it was midsummer and ice really wasn't something you'd expect to find at that time. He pulled out a dagger and began to hack away the ices. Furiously he chipped away the ice, splinter by splinter. Angrily he wished that he had Alistairs raw strength or Wynnes magic. He feared that his slow pace would mean he wouldn't make it in time. It all felt hopeless.

Suddenly the ice cracked and a stream water came pouring out. He stood up and stomped hard on the crack. Surprisingly his foot went straight through. He gasped as the cold water swallowed his leg. He broke the ice quickly now, making a hole. When it was big enough, he reached down and felt around. The cold sent shivers through his whole body and he shivered violently. First he felt nothing. The he felt a hand. He grabbed it quickly and pulled it as hard as he could. As her body resurfaced, he drew a quick breath of relief. Then he saw how pale she was and how her lips had turned a deep, dark blue. He held her in his arms, as he searched for a pulse. Once he found it, a faint flicker of life in her veins, he rushed to his feet with her in is arms. He began running into the castle. As he rushed through the corridors he cursed loudly in antivan that there was no guards anywhere. He suspected that was how she had managed to escape outside without anyone even noticing. What was Alistair thinking, having no guards? He reached the royal bedchamber quicker than he had thought, kicked the door open. From the bed he hurt a grunt and then snoring.

"Get up, fool!"

Alistair sat up in the bed.

"What in the Makers name..."

"Get up!"

Zevran put Celia down by the fireplace and cursed again in antivan. The fire wasn't lit, which was probably a normal notion, since it was summer. After whispering every curse he could remember in antivan he started with the Ferelden ones, while he quickly built up a fire.

"Zevran, what on..."

Alistair went silent as he saw his wife lying lifeless on the floor. Fear and anger filled him.

"What have you done to her?"

He rushed to his wife's side and touched her face softly. Her ice-cold skin against his fingertips sent shivers down his spine. He clenched his fist.

"You idiot," raged Zevran. "If I did this, would I have rushed her here? I thought I had proven, time after time that I no longer wish to kill any of you and yet I'm always the first one you suspect."

"But if it wasn't you, then..."

"I don't know! And right now I don't care."

Alistair glared at Zevran and he glared back.

"Why is my wife lying here, unconscious?" Alistair asked, angry that the elf hadn't told him anything about what had happen yet.

"I'll tell you soon enough! I rather save her life first."

Zevran kneeled down next to Celia and began to rip her nightdress apart. Alistair grabbed Zevrans hands and crushed them in between his own. Zevran let out a groan in pain.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"She needs to get warm fast, you idiot," Zevran hissed through the pain. "Let go of my hands!"

Alistair let go of Zevrans hands, but his eyes still burned in anger.

"Since the fire isn't lit, we have to go with body heat, until the fire is burning. Take of her clothes and hold her close."

"What?"

Zevran cursed again.

"Would you rather I did it?"

"No!"

"Then do as I say, fool!"

Zevran got up and walked to the bed and pulled off the covers. The motion sent flashes of pain through his arms. Alistair had probably broken a bone or two in his hands. He ignored the pain, picked up the covers and then threw them over Alistair.

"Hurry, fool."

He continued to build up the fire in the fireplace. It was slowly growing now.

"Move as close as you can to the fire."

Zevran was relieved that Alistair for once did what he had told him, without questioning him. As Alistair moved himself and his wife closer to the fire, she started coughing and water poured out of her mouth with every cough. After a while the coughing stopped and Alistair pulled her closer to himself. Her body was shaking, and he was shaking, his own body cooling down as hers got warmer. Minutes passed and after what seemed like hours, she stopped shaking. Her body was still cold and her breathing weak.

"Now will you tell me what happened," asked Alistair calmly with a tone of anger in his voice.

"Keep using that tone and I might stay quiet."

"Fine," snarled Alistair. "Then if there was nothing more, you can leave."

Zevran considered the idea, if only for a short moment.

"No, I won't leave."

Alistair stayed silent. Minutes passed and none of them spoke. The silenced was filled with anger, distrust and fear. Zevran could taste it in every breath.

"Okay," Alistair finally said after a long time. "I'm... sorry." Each word sounded like they were drawn through a wall. "Would you, please, tell me what happened," he finished.

The thought on not telling him was very appealing to Zevran. But then keeping this information would probably only hurt Celia.

"I'm not sure exactly what happened. I was outside, watching the stars."

"Watching the star? Hah! I'm not that stupid."

"Oh really? At any rate, I was watching the stars first, until she came outside. And as far as I know, looking at her isn't a crime. I was watching the stars, until your wife decided to dance in the moonlight. If you don't want anyone to look at her, maybe you should lock her up in a tower, carrying the only key around your neck."

"Watch your tongue, assassin," hissed Alistair.

They glared at each other again. It was clear that Alistair would never trust him or even like him the least. But Zevran didn't really care, as long as she was his friend. He sighed. This conversation was getting nowhere.

"She was dancing. Playing. She was alone but acted like there were others around her. Probably sleep walking. She was..." Zevran cut off.

"She was?"

"That's not important. At any rate I looked a way for only a few seconds and when I turned back she was gone. The air had grown cold and there was ice on the ponds."

"It's summer..."

"Don't you think I know that? Obviously there is magic involved but you just have to be so stupid that you can't even figure that out. Anyway, I ran down to the ponds and I broke the ice and pulled her out."

"The ponds aren't that deep..."

"And there is no ice in summer!" Zevran raged. "I can't believe you've been trained as a templar, and you still can't understand magic. Obviously they don't seem to be chosen for intelligence, cause you're just thicker than a..."

"I dare you to finish that sentence," Alistair interrupted angrily.

They both went quiet. The silence was only filled by the sizzling fire, and the shivery breaths that escaped through Celia's lips.

"At any rate, I pulled her up and brought her here. There you have it. That's what happened."

Another silence. Zevran walked up to the fireplace at tended to the fire. Alistair cradled his wife and kissed her forehead. Then he looked at Zevran.

"Thank you," he whispered so low that almost no one would hear it.

Zevran raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"What? No sarcasm? No angry looks?"

"She's my everything. You saved her and for that I am grateful."

"I didn't do it for you," Zevran whispered.

"I know, but still." Alistair looked into the fire. "You love her, don't you? More than a friend, more than sister through the tainted blood."

Silence crept over them again. The light from the fire painted the walls with shadows. Celia's breathing had calmed down, and the air was less tense than any of the other silences had been. It was almost peaceful. Zevran found himself wishing that this moment would last longer, for it sure would be gone once he answered the question.

"Yes," he whispered truthfully.

"I thought so." Alistair took a deep breath. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I'm not sorry she chose me, but I am sorry that it meant she had to hurt you."

"Better me then you, I think. I wasn't exactly raised to love someone. I take my pleasures where I can get them. Love is a luxury I never really had much time or concern for."

"That isn't really true, and you know it, Zev."

"If I say it enough times maybe it will be."

"Why would you want it to be true?"

"Because it is easier that way. In the end love only leads to pain. If not for me, then for someone else." Zevran sighed. "And I will never love anyone the way I love her."

"You better not..."

"Don't worry, Alistair. I won't try to steal her away from you. She loves you and she would never betray you."

"But you might. If you do, you can be sure that I will send you to a place you'll never come back from."

"Oh, time for threats now?"

"I'm just saying."

"Why haven't you sent me away already?"

"Because you're her friend and she loves you. She would never forgive me if I did send you away. Not now, not ever."

Celia stirred in Alistairs arms, whimpering softly. Then her eyes opened.

"What... where... why aren't we in bed? I..."

Alistair hushed her and held her closer. She snuggled into his chest and fell asleep again.

"I think you can put her back into bed now."

Alistair stood up slowly, making sure he didn't wake Celia. He carried her over to the bed and gently laid her down and covered her. She turned in her sleep, but didn't wake up. Alistair picked up his robe and put it on. Then he gestured to Zevran and they went out of the room.

"From what you told me, there probably is magic at work here."

"You're a little slow, no?"

"Shut up." Alistair thought for a while. "It might be the circle, or the templars working through the circle. They have been going on for months, ever since we announced she was with child, that the child was an abomination. They don't even know if it's good or evil, and I don't think they even care. They're too scared to even hope for the best."

"You don't think that the baby..."

"It isn't even born yet! How could it...? Why would it? Killing her would kill the baby too, wouldn't it?"

"Maybe you're right. But we can't be sure."

"No! Absolutely not."

"Alistair your love is blinding you."

"And your fear is blinding you!"

"I do not fear whatever she is carrying. Even if its..."

"Don't say it! It is a human child. Not a demon, not an abomination. A child!"

"You don't know that."

"But I have to believe that, cause the alternative is too horrible to imagine."

"That might be, but ignoring the fact that it might not be human is too dangerous."

"Then you worry about that, if it pleases you."

Alistair turned to walk back into the room, when a sudden realization struck him. He quickly looked around and then he turned back to Zevran.

"Where are the guards?"

"You're asking me? You're the one who should know. I didn't see a single one on my way here."

Alistair cursed.

"It is just a guess, but maybe whoever made her walk outside also made the guards... disappear. Surely they would've stopped her, or at least followed her if they hadn't been disabled in some way."

"You might be right. I think I will have a talk with the guard captain. Maybe he will find it as amusing to be woken up in the middle of the night as I do." He started walking and then he stopped. "Would you..." The words didn't come easy. "Watch..."

"Don't strain yourself asking. I'll make sure she stays in her bed." He smirked. "One way or another."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that last part," Alistair hissed through his teeth and then he walked away.

* * *

End of chapter 5


	6. Preparation

**Disclaimer: **I do not own dragon age.

* * *

Your sins into me

Oh my beautiful one

Your sins into me

As your rapturous voice escapes I will tremble a prayer,

and I'll beg for forgiveness.

Your sins into me

Your sins into me

Oh my beautiful one

_Silver and Cold - AFI_

"There is something I must ask of you, Zev."

"Yes?"

Celia let out a deep sigh. Never before had it been so hard to ask someone to do something for her. She was used to people doing things for, whether she asked them to or not. It was hard, because it wasn't really a request as much as an order. It was hard because after today there would be no going back. It was hard because the more set in stone her plans became, the closer she came to the place where she would have to say goodbye to two of the people she loved, and would love most in the world.

"What I'm about to ask you, isn't easy for me." She put her hand on her stomach, as though she could draw strength from her unborn child. "How much do you know about the changes the tainted blood have on us Wardens?"

At first the question surprised Zevran, because it seemed to be nothing difficult either with the question or the answer. But then he realized that whatever she really wanted to ask of him it wasn't this.

"What do you mean?"

"About what happens with our bodies. Our minds."

"I'm not sure what it is you want me to say, but I will try to answer your question." He paused and thought for a while, remembering what he had been told after the joining. "There are the nightmares. There is the appetite. And the death sentence. Can't say I'm happy about that one."

"And what have you heard about the condition I'm in?"

Zevran chuckled.

"I doubt that I will ever find myself in your condition, so I haven't really bothered to ask. I'm assuming you mean your condition and the connection it might have to the taint."

Celia smiled.

"Yes." She looked around the room aimlessly. "Supposedly it is considered hard for a Grey Warden to conceive a child, and when both the parents have the taint, you would think it would be impossible." She paused again, placing her hand once more on her stomach. "The taint is a poison. One without a cure. A child with tainted blood from both parents... There is no telling what that child might become."

She stopped talking and looked at Zevran, who was studying her closely, waiting for whatever would come next. His face didn't show any fear, the sole feeling that gripped her heart. Instead she thought she could see anticipation and curiosity, as if this was all some kind of game.

"Some," she continued, "might want to kill the child once it is born. Some, as we already have seen, won't even wait that long."

"The templars," Zevran said shortly.

"I am not even sure myself that it will be a child that should be allowed to live."

Zevran narrowed his eyes and his whole posture froze.

"Surely you're not going to ask what it sounds like," he said with a low voice.

"What does it sound like I'm asking?"

"It sounds awfully much like you're asking me to kill this child. Once it's born. Or maybe even now. Surely that is not what you're asking me."

Celia turned her face away. She had rarely seen Zevran's eyes so cold, and it both scared her and surprised her. He was no stranger to murder and yet he seemed to be against the whole idea, even before he had heard it all.

"It is," he answered in her place.

"Yes," she whispered. "And no. I'm afraid it won't be that simple."

"Death is simple."

"Yes, Zevran. But life rarely is."

Zevran took a deep breath. For a moment there he had all but believed that she would ask him to kill her unborn child, or maybe even herself. Any other child he wouldn't even have blinked. But her child. Even if it was Alistairs child too, in Zevrans eyes it was her child. Killing anyone she loved, would hurt her deeply. And hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do. The assassin in him told him that he was turning weak, that he had let his love for her influence him too much. The man in him kept asking what the point of living was, without love in it.

"If that was not what you wish of me, then what is it you want to ask me?"

Celia took a deep breath. It was too late to turn back now, no matter how much she wished she could.

"First I need you to search the city for a baby that will be born around the same time as mine. You will have to have multiple options. Once my child is born you will have to replace my child with this baby."

"You want me to steal someone's child? Why?"

"I'm afraid stealing the child is only the start. In fact, to cover your tracks, you might have to kill the parents."

"My dear Warden, you are quite the intrigue maker. Part of me is happy we're on the same side. The other part would very much like to test its wits against you. I'm sure it would be a very interesting game."

Celia smiled weakly.

"We can play games once this is over Zevran. However now is not the time for that."

"Once I have replaced your child, and disposed of the other child's parents? Then what?"

"You have to stage a raid, killing, what others will think is, my child."

"Intriguing. And then?"

"Then you will take my child and travel out of Ferelden. There you will raise the child and return once it is safe."

"Excuse me, what? I get the feeling you have left a great deal of the story out, so far."

"You're going to think I'm crazy."

"I already do, my dear Warden," Zevran chuckled. "After all you spared the life of an assassin who was out to kill you. You went up against hordes of darkspawn and dragons. You put Alistair on the throne and then you married him. I'm not sure which part makes you more crazy."

"Wow, thanks," she replied with sarcasm.

"Tell me the whole story now."

"Duncan, the Grey Warden who recruited me and Alistair before me, came to me in the fade. He told me that I would have this child and also that I would have to send it away, to ensure the safety of the child and of Ferelden. If I kept my child here, many would try to kill it. And if the child is... less than human, it will not be able to cause trouble here in Ferelden."

"I see. Instead you're sending this could be demon child with me. It sounds very tempting," Zevran said coldly. "Which brings us to the question; why me?"

"The reasons are many. First, I can trust you. You will do as I ask, whatever I ask of you, and my child will be safe with you. Second, you can sense the darkspawn, should they try to seek the child. Third, if the child should prove to be, not human, you will be able to kill it."

Zevran drew breath through is teeth, producing a hissing sound.

"This is what you been planning all along, isn't it? That why you had me join."

"Yes," Celia whispered softly.

"So all this time, I have been nothing more than a pawn in your game?"

The cold tone in Zevrans voice frightened Celia. Both because she saw now that he might not accept this mission that she had planned. Also because however it played out, it might alter their friendship forever. She looked at Zevran with pleading eyes, wishing that he would at least stay to hear it all.

"Zevran. You mean much more to me than any simple pawn. I only did this because I thought I had to. If I could choose I would not do this, but I am willing to sacrifice a lot to make sure my child is safe."

"Even our friendship?"

"Please Zevran, don't say that," Celia said with a shiver on her voice. "I never want to lose you or your friendship."

"You are asking a great deal, my dear Celia."

Celia sighed in relief. He rarely called her by name, and this could only be a good thing. He wasn't trying to hide, for once.

"I know, Zev. And I'm really sorry that I have to burden you with all this, but I don't know who else I can trust as much as I trust you."

"And what about Alistair?"

"No. He cannot know. If he knew he wouldn't allow it. He wouldn't send the child away. He is blinded by his love."

"Secrets have a way of coming out sooner or later, dear Warden. Someone might see me, try to stop me."

"Then you must kill them too. There can be no witnesses. Only two people will know about this. You and me. This is another reason it has to be you. You're prepared to kill anyone who would come in your way, it will not be a problem for you, but for others it might. And this is another reason why you must travel away from Ferelden. Matters here are bad enough without rumours of suspicious murders. You also know enough not to leave behind you a trail that could lead people to you. You understand now why it has to be you?"

Zevran merely nodded. He didn't trust his own voice at the moment. He wasn't even sure if he could trust himself with this mission. He feared that she had too much faith in him. And that was a feeling he didn't care much for. He had always had confidence in himself, but now that she entrusted him with her child, he felt his confidence falter. He understood very well that if he made one mistake, their friendship would be over, and this was what he feared the most. How he hated this feeling.

"And then," he said once he trusted his voice again. "What happens after we're away from Ferelden? When do we come back?"

"I don't know, Zev. I honestly don't know. You may have to teach my child read, to write. To fight and so much more. You might be gone for years. You might have to teach him or her how to govern a kingdom, history and everything else you see fit."

"Everything?" Zevran asked mockingly.

Celia looked at him and saw his lips curl into a smirk.

"Maybe not everything. You better keep your hands to yourself."

Zevrans smirk faded again.

"And how will I know when it is safe to return?"

"Duncan will come to you in your dreams."

"I do not know this Duncan. How will I know it is him?"

"You will know," Celia said with a smile. "You will know." She sighed. "So, will you do it?"

"Oh now you ask me? Haven't we already moved past the point where I actually had a choice in this?"

"Don't say it like that. Makes it sound awfully a lot like I am forcing you to do this all."

"Well you are, are you not?"

"You can say no."

Zevran sighed.

"No I can't. And you know that."

"I know no such thing."

Before she could react he had rushed up to her, pinned her against the wall and now his face was only an inch from hers.

"Don't think you can fool me. You know how I feel about you. You know I would do almost anything for you. Anything to make you happy."

"Zev..."

In his mind went hundreds of thoughts. How easy it would be to just seize this moment and kiss her. The fact that she was married to Alistair. Alistairs threat. How sweet she smelled. How much he wanted this.

He backed away almost as quickly as he had rushed forward. He turned away from her in order to gain control over his feelings. He had nearly let them take control over him. He feared the day when they would. Maybe going away was a good thing.

"There is one more thing," Celia said and broke the silence. "I might change my mind or in any way beg from you not to go through with this. If and when that happens, you are not to listen to me. You must ignore everything I say. What we discussed in this room today, that is what needs to happen."

"I understand." He didn't dare to turn around and look at her. "Would that be all?"

"Yes," she said softly.

"Then I will leave now. Prepare."

He quickly got out of the room, not waiting for any reply. There was much that had to be done and with a heavy heart he disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

End of chapter 6


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